


The Last Lonely Night

by Nanyoky



Series: Just Us [3]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Forced Prostitution, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Quarter Quell, Rebellion, subject matter is dark but nothing is explicit, victors joking about things they shouldn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5548295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanyoky/pseuds/Nanyoky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before the third Quarter Quell, the Victor-Tributes of the 75th Annual Hunger Games spend one last night with Capital citizens with the money to pay. For those with important positions in the rebellion, things are a little different.<br/>Ties in with "Just Us" as a series, but reading the rest is not necessary to your understanding of this piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Lonely Night

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly one of my favorite subtle relationships in the books and movies is Johanna and Finnick's very complicated and vague friendship. They seem like two people who shouldn't really get along, but they are obviously very close. I'm fascinated by their history.  
> Some things from my multichapter "Just Us" may be repeated, but I figure I can get away with it because POV shifts.

"So Mags is all tucked in? Having sweet dreams?"

Finnick took the glass of rum she offered him with a warning look. Johanna grinned back and sat on the opposite end of the couch, her feet tucked under her.

"The sweetest. And Blight?"

"Thrown up twice already. Won't last an hour tomorrow." She watched him, waiting for the inevitable moment when he understood that she meant both their district partners and told her to fuck off. But he only took a drink and shook his head.

"You think we're the worst kind of idiots, Johanna?"

She snorted.

" _You_ are. I've got nothing left to lose though, after all is said and done." She drained her glass and reached over the back of the couch for the bottle. "But seems both sides have worked out how to keep me on a short leash."

Finnick frowned, but didn't say anything. The "both sides" reference hadn't been a good idea. They didn't know if the Victor Center was bugged tonight. Even if it was, Johanna doubted they were being closely monitored. Still, she didn't want to suffer an argument with him about it just now. She'd toe the line.

"You never told me," he finally went on. "How they got you to keep taking clients."

Johanna gave him her best smile and winked over her glass. "They figured out my strategy."

" _Our_ strategy," he corrected.

"Well _you_ fucked it up royally, Odair. So it's _my_ strategy now."

He grinned into his glass. "That I did. So how'd they get you? If you're so clever?"

She flipped a hand impatiently. She should not have started a conversation that she didn't want to have, but it was too late now.

"Plan was to only care about Victors. But you know- Mags and Annie. They're the vulnerable ones. Makes you vulnerable. And me too."

He laughed and took the bottle from her. "What? You and Mags necking behind my back?" he clicked his tongue as he poured. "I'll have to have a talk with that saucy old woman."

Johanna looked up to the ceiling for patience. "Sometimes I think you're as dumb as they all say."

Finnick feigned a look of hurt and touched a hand to his heart. "Who says?"

But Johanna knew she couldn't joke her way out of the topic this time. Better to rip the bandaid clean.

"You wouldn't speak to me," she swilled the ice in her glass around. "If I got Mags and Annie killed."

To his credit, his expression didn't change. That's why they got along- or at least why they didn't hate each other yet. Strict no bullshit policy. No apologies either. Not even when she had sat across his thighs and kissed him, a hand sliding past the waistband of his pants. It was something to apologize for- judging by the way had looked at her with nothing short of terror- but instead she just laughed, kissed his cheek roughly, and gone back to the other side of the sofa, both of them pretending the moment had never happened. Johanna sometimes wondered if he had been with Annie at the time. Not that it mattered. She knew a cold hard rejection when she got one.

"Not even if I understood why you did it," he agreed, voice quiet now.

"And Chaff and his little girl, Blight's boyfriend with the tattoos, the old man," she added the rest of her list on, just to be sure he didn't think himself too important. "Remember last year when he fell off the stage and we thought-"

"Mmm-" he hummed into his glass rather than let her go on and explain that when Haymitch fell off the stage they had both thought he'd been slipped something that would have been deemed "alcohol poisoning" after an unnecessary autopsy. "Fuck off or I'll tell him how much you care."

Johanna snorted. "Only when he's full drunk. That's why I have to keep you on my side. I can stand you in any state, but the old man is only drunk 30% of the time. It'd get boring."

Finnick nodded and reached for the remote. She was thankful that he wasn't pushing the issue. No bullshit policy aside, he sometimes said more than she wanted to hear. But not tonight. Neither of them had the energy for any of that tonight.

"Want to play 'Real or Not Real' with the mentor interviews?"

It was the only game to play the night before the Games. They'd thought of it her first year as a mentor. Watching the mentors talk about how lovable their bright young tributes were, they'd wait for a claim- about a sweetheart back home, a sick mother, love for animals- and ask the other: Real or not real? Since then, she had caught Finnick playing a less enjoyable version on the phone with Annie. A version with her traitorous memories. From the few times Johanna had met Annie, she could bet the things she asked about were anywhere from "we have a dog" to "I killed the boy from Twelve." "Not true" and "True," as it happened.

Before he could find the right channel, there was a single sharp ding and the elevator opened. Both of them reached for blades at their hips. Blades that weren't there. Their knives had been confiscated since the Quell was reaped, just in case. Seven Peacekeepers accompanied Egeria, Snow's master of the revels.

"Eight of you?" Johanna cocked an eyebrow at them. "Well form a line boys and girls. Finn and me may need to take you in turns."

Egreria did not smile. Johanna didn't think she had more than one facial expression.

"Miss Mason, you are required."

Finnick leaned forward, his best smirk on his lips. He was going to tell them she was too drunk to give anyone a decent time and offer to take the client in her place. They did it for each other sometimes, when they could tell the other was near the breaking point that was near impossible to claw their way back from. Likely he felt indebted to her after her half-assed confession as to why she still took clients in the first place. Her foot shot out across the couch to kick his hip. He winced.

"You too, Mr. Odair. You are both required in the city."

~

"Shower is through the door on the left," the peacekeeper told Finnick as he led him inside the apartment. It was a nice flat in the middle class part of town. Of course, middle class in the Capital was horrifyingly extravagant to anyone in the districts, even Four. Finnick showered, but didn't see any fresh clothes prepared for him, so he changed back into the clothes he had been wearing before. He left his shoes and socks off- there was no appealing way to take off your socks- and settled against the headboard. Closing his eyes, he fingered the shells around his neck and tried to smell the salt still clinging to them.

"I don't need guards in my own home- go bother someone else."

"Afraid someone might hear you?" Finnick grinned, propping himself up on one elbow as the door opened. "Don't you worry, Cinna. These boys have heard plenty worse than your _lovely_ sounds."

Cinna finished shooing the peacekeepers away and locked the door with what was clearly his best attempt at a scowl. There was never any way to tell the Victors when they would be sold to a rebel to pass plans, it wasn't safe. It took a few moments for Finnick to realize what this meant. That he would never be sold again. Come hell or high water- the Victors would have a different life after this night.

"Finnick."

"Nice to see a regular."

Cinna flipped his hand at him and deposited himself in a chair near a drafting table in the corner. "Not bugged. Portia's pager will have anything in a 100 yard radius with audio or video knocked out for the next two hours."

Finnick relaxed, letting his posture slump. "How's our girl then? Bet she's all aflutter after the hubby let everyone know about her little bump of joy."

Cinna gave him a look, confirming what he already knew about Peeta's onstage confession.

"She's all ready to die for that poor boy. She thinks he's the one getting out at the end of this. You'll have to keep up that pretense."

"Sure, sure." Finnick still hadn't worked out what the tie between Katniss and Peeta was, but he'd learn more once he got to spend more time with them.

"Just remember-" Cinna was giving him that look again. Like Finnick was a child that wasn't being serious enough for the grownup conversation Cinna was trying to have. "Priorities go: Katniss, then Peeta, then you and Johanna."

"And Mags." He pulled up his best Capital smirk in response to the look he got for this. "Don't give me that look like I'm the sweet little bread boy or the sparkle girl. You and Haymitch chose me for this because you know I play to win. They're just a couple of kids, stumbling around. I had to grow up a hell of a lot faster than that."

Cinna only gave a tired shake of the head. "Don't think you realize how much of a kid you are, Finnick." Then, quick like he was twisting the knife. "How's the misses?"

Finnick's back molders clacked together. "I can only imagine. But she's tougher than you all give her credit for. She broke down at the reaping, yeah. But I called when we arrived. She knows it's going to be bad. And she'll be fine. Panem will fall to pieces, and she'll still be there."

Cinna nodded. "She'd better be up for it."

~

The apartment Johanna was brought to was disgusting. Everything was in shades of pastels and shimmered. Effie was already waiting for her in the lounge.

"Oh- my lovely!" She twittered in her high, affected tones. "Now, now- shoo!" she made a sweeping motion with her hands at the peacekeepers. "I don't like things so formal!"

"Yeah, Miss Trinket here is more into gagging for me while I tie her up."

Effie tried to scowl and pretend she wasn't blushing while she shuffled the guards out the front door.

"Hardly necessary, Miss Mason."

"Why couldn't I get Cinna?" Johanna kicked off her shoes and dropped down onto a plush fainting couch, tucking her feet under her. "I can actually stand him."

"I'm told it's called compartmentalization," Effie sniffed. "You already have all the information Cinna could give you. Believe me, I'd much rather see Mr. Odair tonight."

"Wouldn't everyone."

Effie sat on the opposite end of the fainting couch, too close for Johanna's tastes. She opened what looked like an old fashioned scheduling ledger, but was full of tiny, scrunched notes that didn't appear to be in any known language.

Effie didn't like being in the rebellion. She was scared out of her mind by the very idea. But she had on flaw, fatal to anyone in the Capital: she fell into complete adoration with every child she ever met. Years of watching children she loved die had soured her to what she had previously seen as normal, and watching the only two she ever helped save being thrown back towards their deaths had been the final straw. She was rare enough to love children more than her own safety. That and her very true love of all things fine and beautiful was a perfect cover. And her talent for meticulous planning and record keeping was near superhuman.

Johanna knew all this because Finnick did. He, of course, was an integral part in recruiting Effie. For all that it had been ten years since they met, she still saw him as the youngest Victor in history and loved him almost as much as Katniss and Peeta. As far as Johanna could tell, the feeling was mutual- at least judging by the way Finnick had gripped her throat when she made a lewd joke about the woman once.

"Now- nothing major has changed recently. The priority is still to get Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark out of the arena, then anyone else in the rebellion. Your official mission-" she flipped a page. "Is to focus on the protection of Wiress and Beetee from District Three."

Johanna groaned and dropped her head back against the wall with a thud. "Of course. It had to be me babysitting Nuts and Volts."

Effie ignored her and went on. "It is your singular priority to watch over them both until the mission is complete. Meet up with Katniss and the others as soon as is feasible. Then you will work together to complete the plan. Beetee is the only player who knows exactly what needs to be done, so it is imperative that he survive."

"Volts gets us to the end, Birdbrain gets out first," Johanna nodded, bored. "Anything else?"

Effie set down her ledger, lips pressed together. "Nothing that you don't already know. Is there anything you'd like to ask me? Anything you need?"

"Blowjob might be nice."

Effie wrinkled her nose. "Unnecessary."

"Too bad." Johanna hesitated. "Do got one question though."

"Yes?"

She played with the hem of her pants, picking apart the careful seams. "She worth it? This girl? I don't wanna die for some Twelve hick who's just stumbling around getting protected by people smarter than her."

Effie gave a soft "hmm" before she answered. "Miss Mason, every one of you is worth it."

Johanna snorted. "I'll take that as a no."

~

It was almost dawn when Finnick returned to the tribute center. Gloss was returning at the same time and they got into the elevator together. Without a word, Finnick pressed the roof button rather than the living quarters for Four. They rode the elevator out in silence and stepped out onto the roof, where the wind and sounds of the city in celebration were too loud for recording devices.

Gloss grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him. Finnick didn't push him off, but kept still, waiting for the other man to give up.

"Please-" when it was clear that he wasn't going to respond, Gloss dropped his forehead onto Finnick's shoulder. "Cash- she won't touch me after. She never does."

Finnick tried to fight down the bile in the back of his throat at these words. Not that he didn't know about the siblings. Most people did, even if they pretended not to. But that didn't mean he wanted to hear about it.

"It's still-" he hesitated. He didn't think Gloss would betray the other Victors- not when they all had been through so much together. But he and Cashmere had shied away from early attempts to fold them into the rebellion. And the siblings had never been what one would call stable. It was always hard to guess just what they were capable of. "It's not too late, Gloss. You know that, right? We can help you. Help both of-"

Gloss finally pulled away, shaking his head furiously. "No- no. Don't say that. Don't-"

Finnick pressed his lips together, trying to reign in any other words that would upset their doomed and unusual friendship. But he couldn't let Cashmere and Gloss go into the arena in a few hours without one last chance.

"Only one can win, Gloss. Unless you side with us, only one is coming out of there. We can help you. We can save you both."

Gloss actually let out a small huff of a laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking out over the city lights below.

"You've always been too optimistic, Finn. That'll always be your problem."

"I'm not stupid."

"I know you're not, but aren't you tired?"

Finnick kept his mouth shut. He turned, getting ready to leave the roof.

"Just- think about it, Gloss. Mention it to Cash if you can. I know you don't want her to die."

"Do you really think they'd let us alone?" Gloss was calling after him and Finnick refused to turn. "We're not tributes, Finn. We're Career. You really think they're going to see us like all the poor other kids who didn't have a choice?"

"Shut up."

"Maybe you'll be fine though. You've always been slipperier than the rest of us."


End file.
